


A Hand  to Hold

by EmilliaGryphon



Series: Guardians of the Galaxy One Shots [23]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, gotg
Genre: Avengers Endgame, Endgame, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Nebula Needs a Hug, Platonic Bonding, Rocket Has A Heart, so does Rocket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-25 23:18:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18711703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilliaGryphon/pseuds/EmilliaGryphon
Summary: *CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR AVENGERS ENDGAME* Based on the all too brief scene where Rocket takes Nebula's hand after she and Tony return to earth...without the other Guardians.





	A Hand  to Hold

“Quill?” Rocket shrilled, scampering up the ramp of the Benatar. He barley spared a glance at Nebula’s sour face and yet the tension of her presence bore a hole in his mechanical heart. He ignored it, running into the ship sniffing for any sign of them. “Where are they?” He ran across the plated metal floor towards the cockpit. “Where the hell are they?” Rocket’s voice cracked, fur bristling with the cold breeze that swept through the ship. “Quill! He called, running through the halls. “Drax! Gamora! Mantis!” Something crunched under his foot and he stopped, staring at the mess of chips scattering the floor. “Groo…” the name died in this throat with a hitch. Something shifted behind him. _Thank the stars they…_

Nebula lingered behind him. Face drawn and unreadable as ever. “Mantis was first,” she began. Rocket stiffened. _No. No, no no._ “We didn’t know what was happening. There was no warning." Rocket’s fists balled, his stomach dropping. “Drax and Quill,” her voice tapered off into the unforgiving silence. Rocket willed himself not to hear the rest of her words. He didn’t have to. A part of him already knew. _They were gone. All of them._ Dusted like, like Groot. _Morons._ His own words ate at him. He’d insulted them, turned tail and ran for it. Just like he’d always done.

Rocket fell against the wall and sunk to the floor. He stared at the empty seats in the cockpit.

“I left them,” Rocket whispered. Abandoned them. After everything they’d done for him. He told himself he’d left to protect Groot, to keep him safe. _Tsch, like that had worked._

“She never should have told him.” Nebula growled beside him, she slunk down the wall and sat on the floor beside him.  His ears pricked forward, waiting for the angry woman to continue. If only to fill the silence but she only retreated once more into her rage. Rocket looked at his own paws, nervously picking at his fur. _Where was the music?_ There was always music on the Benatar. But now...the void was so empty. So soundless. An empty shell of a place had been his home. The only place he’d ever felt safe, with the only people he ever presumed to love. He tore his eyes away from the vacant seats, to Nebula. The metal in her face, her cybernetic arm. Did she wonder, like he wondered...if her heart was still her own? Or had it been torn out and replaced with cold cruel steel like everything else? Rocket sniffed, though the tears wouldn’t come. He was too tired, too shocked. They were gone. and he’d abandoned them.

They sat there the two of them. Totally alone and yet...yet here they were. They’d survived. Rocket’s tail twitched. Nebula had made it too. Out of everyone...why them? Why were they the ones who remained? Rocket sure as hell didn’t deserve it. Neither did she. It made no sense. Rocket forced a breath. These were thoughts too big and too complex for a mind not made to grasp such existential thoughts. The Benatar was so empty. Drained of color and music and arguing and laughter that once sounded all around. There was nothing but metal bones of iron now. Like him. Like both of them. Rocket swallowed his fear. Lifting a small paw hesitantly. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Nebula but as his fingertips brushed her flesh he felt her own hand open to his. _Scratch, pull away._ No. Not this time. there was far too much pain and terror in the world already. He lay his hand in hers wrapping his fingers around her thumb. he could feel her muscles reflexively tighten at first and he made to let go. What was he thinking? How could he be so foolish as to...warm smooth fingers clasped around his own. Squeezing tight. That soothing feeling that came with a gentle touch. He didn’t think it possible from the super assassin who had shot him and stood up to a crew of mutinous ravagers and yet. It was enough. Rocket closed his eyes for a moment. Neither of them said anything but sat in mutual loneliness. How ironic. He didn’t speak...his throat was too dry. Nebula kept her resolve. Each of them so detached, so ready to shy away. So guarded with bodies more their abusers than their own.  Rocket thought sniffing. He could still smell the tang of Quill’s disgusting Axe spray.

“It doesn’t matter,” Nebula finally growled as though she’d read his mind. “All that matters is what we do next. What the hell would they do? Rocket didn’t had zero clue. Part of him didn’t care. Nebula’s thumb slowly brushed his fur back and forth.

“He fucked you up pretty bad huh?” Rocket speculated, his voice uncommonly delicate.

“Hmm,” Nebula grunted. Uneasy silence descended on them once more. Steve, Tony, Pepper, Natasha and the rest of the odd humies had gone back inside the compound. Their silhouettes faded into the darkness. Not Nebula and Rocket though. They remained outside in the ship, where they belonged. Apart from the others. Not rejected but not accepted. Not the same. Rocket waited a moment then a moment more.

He barely ran his fingers over the blue skin. Back and forth, if only to reassure himself she was still there, solid. If only to reassure himself she wouldn’t fade away. Fuck when did he become so sentimental? He carefully slid his eyes over to her again. In the darkness of the ship and the night sky above the silver implants in her head gleamed and the stars they were so far away.

“Yeah,” he managed swallowing down the quelling sickness in his gut. “They fucked me up too. not Thanos…” he corrected, “but….others.” Rocket gently moved his paw, making to slide it away. He’d said too much and stopped. Nebula’s hand tightened around his.

“Stay…” she ordered though there was little malus behind it. He watched her exhale, staring out into the empty ship. “Please.” Rocket nodded, keeping his hand in place.


End file.
